


swallow your pride

by Wheat From Chaff (wheatfromchaff)



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BDSM, Collars, Dubious Consent, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sub Frank, Very brief mention of child abuse, dom billy, i will never stop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 05:50:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13583595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheatfromchaff/pseuds/Wheat%20From%20Chaff
Summary: “You might be new to giving, but I know for a fact that you’ve been on the receiving end of countless incredible blow jobs before. It’s not rocket science, Frankie. Just think about what I used to do to you.”Frank huffed again, the sound coming out a little rougher than usual. “I don’t know. You… would get on your knees. Swirl your tongue around. Flutter your eyes real pretty.”Billy pushed his lips together and considered hitting Frank. “That’s funny,” he said instead. “That’s all you remember?”“It’s been a while,” Frank said.--Billy gives Frank some advice.





	swallow your pride

**Author's Note:**

> back on my bullshit.
> 
> Part of the same AU as 'Eat your ego, honey', although set a bit earlier in the timeline, where Billy captures, breaks, and trains Frank to be his asset before the events of the TV series take place. The title is also from that Phantogram song because I..................... couldn't think of anything better. 
> 
> Special thanks to ssealdog ([AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sealdog/pseuds/sealdog)/[Tumblr](http://ssealdog.tumblr.com)) for beta'ing again :")

“Jesus Christ.” Billy yanked Frank’s head back, a line of drool stretching and snapping from his lips. “It’s like I’m getting sucked off by a Doberman. Haven’t you ever done this before?”

Frank had about as many dirty looks as actual weapons in his arsenal. He pulled one out and aimed it into Billy’s unimpressed face.

“No,” he said, more growl than word.

Billy sighed and cast his gaze to the ceiling, beseeching the uncaring son of a bitch who ran existence. “Of course not. You always face-fucked like a man who’d never been on the receiving end.” Which wasn’t always a bad thing. God knew Billy enjoyed that kind of violence.

Frank was on his knees, arms bound tight behind his back. It was a collar day, the thick leather just a hair’s breadth from being too tight around his pretty throat.  Frank always got sour when Billy put it on, but he’d learned to submit. To be good. Like any dog, he’d learned the meaning of consequences.

Billy’d wanted to indulge himself a little, that was all. He’d worked hard on Frank, and now he was docile enough to have some real fun with.

He’d spent time thinking about what Frankie would look like on his knees. Whenever he had a rare night to himself, with nothing but the memory of a shared tent and a shitty cot, and the feel of Frank’s big hands on him, thick fingers in him, breath hot on the back of his neck, the whole of it hanging around the fore of his mind like the curtains before the movie started, Billy imagined what it would be like to see the tables turned for once. Something in him ached for it.

Suppose he should’ve known better. Billy sniffed.

“Jesus. Even for a first-timer, you’re terrible,” he said. Frank huffed, looking torn between being insulted and relieved. Typical. “My first wasn’t that sloppy, and I was twelve.”

Frank’s gaze snapped up to Billy’s face, something flaring in the flint of his eyes. Billy swallowed and tipped his head back, looked away from that maudlin pity in Frank’s Catholic schoolboy gaze, and made a show of looking exasperated.

“Ooookay,” he said with a voice like a sigh. “You might be new to giving, but I know for a fact that you’ve been on the receiving end of countless incredible blow jobs before. It’s not rocket science, Frankie. Just think about what I used to do to you.”

Frank huffed again, the sound coming out a little rougher than usual. “I don’t know. You… would get on your knees. Swirl your tongue around. Flutter your eyes real pretty.”

Billy pushed his lips together and considered hitting Frank. “That’s funny,” he said instead. “That’s all you remember?”

“It’s been a while,” Frank said.

Billy cast his gaze around the room, one side of his lips pulling into a smile of disbelief. “I cannot believe this. You really complainin’ that I haven’t sucked your dick recently?” He stepped closer, tilting his head to the side. “You know that’s not what our relationship is, right? Not anymore.” He lifted his foot and pressed the pointed tip of his polished shoes lightly against the stretch of fabric between Frank’s thighs. “I don’t gotta get on my knees for you. You haven’t earned it. You haven’t even come close.”

Frank’s jaw worked. He stared at the ground, brows pulled low over his narrowed eyes. His chin looked shiny and wet.

There was no room in Billy’s vacant heart for sympathy. You can’t give back what you never got, after all. But something unfamiliar, and unpleasant stirred in him when he looked down at his boy. He pursed his lips.

“Okay.” He tucked himself back into his briefs and sank to a crouch in front of Frank. “How about this. How ‘bout I give you some tips?”

Frank looked at him the way he used to whenever Billy made an off-colour joke he felt was too stupid to laugh at. Billy grinned.

“Not _that_ kind of tip,” he said. “Although don’t worry, that’s coming your way later. I mean _advice_. See, the first thing you need to know about giving a decent blow job is how to breathe. It’s like when you go snorkelling. You know how you gotta teach yourself how to breathe through your mouth so you don’t suck down water? Well, for this you gotta breathe through your nose because you’re suckin’ down another man’s cock.”

He leaned close to Frank, until their faces were inches apart. A few months ago, he wouldn’t have risked getting so many soft parts within such close range of Frank’s teeth.

Frank watched Billy, his gaze flicking down to his lips.

“Breathe like this,” Billy said and pressed the flat of his hand over his own mouth. He drew in an exaggerated breath through his nostrils and pushed it out slow, right into Frank’s face. Frank’s lashes fluttered. His sculpted lips parted, just a fraction.

“Now you try.” Billy pressed his palm over Frank’s mouth, moving slowly enough to let Frank track and predict his move. It felt like months of good work paying off when Frank didn’t try to jerk away from Billy’s hand. He sucked an inhale through his nose, and pushed it out hard. Billy felt his hot breath against his knuckles.

“Easy. See?” Billy smiled. His palm felt warm and wet. “You’re a natural.”

Another nasty look, no less strong for only using half of Frank’s face. Billy’s smile only widened. He pulled his hand away.

“Okay, part two is rhythm. I know for a fact that you touch your own dick if there’s no one around to do it for you, so I know you know how important consistent rhythm is. Whether you got a dick in your hand or in your mouth, it’s all the same. You gotta keep the rhythm steady. Now, if you had your hands…” Billy curled his fingers around an invisible shaft in front of his mouth. “I’d tell you to use ’em to help. But, uh. That’s not happening today.”

“Why not?” Frank’s nostrils twitched. He looked Billy up and down. “C’mon, Bill. You used to love feeling my hands on you.”

Billy’s amused expression dissolved, leaving nothing behind. “You haven’t earned that,” he said, quiet. “You don’t get to touch me. You aren’t there yet.”

Frank’s eyes narrowed again, and his lips pulled back, but he said nothing. Progress.

“Rhythm,” Billy went on, voice light once more. “Slow at the start, and then fast when you feel he’s about ready to come.” He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, smile growing when Frank tracked the movement. “Lesson three: technique. Which is mostly just about using your tongue. And not just slobbering all over it. It’s a thoughtful use of the tongue. Tasteful, like you’re licking down a popsicle in church. Oh, and you gotta keep your jaw relaxed, too, otherwise you’ll just tire yourself out.”

“This is a lot to keep in mind,” Frank said with a shake of his head.

Billy gave him a look. “It’s not. People’ve been sucking dick for generations. Our ancestors could do it. Morons and geniuses alike can do it.”

“The great equalizer,” Frank said.

“It’s just a little multitasking. Here. Like this.”

Billy sat back on his haunches. He parted his lips, relaxed his jaw, and pushed three fingers into his mouth.

It was almost funny, just how still Frankie could get. Chest going quiet like he’d stopped breathing, or his heart had stopped cold. Just the same as Billy had seen him get before a fight, in those calm moments before everything went to shit and Frank was set loose on some poor, doomed bastards, dragging hell on chains.

Billy kept his eyes open, made sure to watch Frank while he worked. He knew what he looked like, knew enough about his face, about his big, dark eyes and his long lashes, and the scalpel-sharp line of his cheeks. What it looked like when he hollowed them, let his eyelids lower. He pulled his fingers out and slowly took them back in, inch by inch, until he’d swallowed them down to the knuckle. He made a show of breathing in and out through his nose.

Frank watched him, sweat beading on his temples. He swallowed.

“This is kind of an advanced technique,” Billy said, pulling them out once more. “But when you’re pulling off, you can kind of swirl your tongue a little…” He rested the tips of his fingers against his lower lip, and opened his mouth so Frank could watch him curl his sweetheart pink tongue around them.

Frank jerked in his bonds. His breath stuttered in his chest. Billy leaned close again, until he could brush his nose against Frank’s cheek.

“Sucking’s important, too,” he said, his mouth curling into a smile. “It’ll help with the drool. And you gotta make him feel wanted, right? Like you’re on death row and his dick is your last meal.” He made good and sure Frankie had his eyes on him before pushing his fingers back into his mouth. He hollowed his cheeks and gave a long suck, moaning a little.

Frank actually growled.

Billy had just as many looks in his arsenal, but his were magazine gloss and model pretty. He gave his boy a special smile, the kind that crinkled the lines around his eyes, that would make most people stumble when they weren’t even walking. He drew his fingers out slowly, drawing one final lick before lowering his hand.

“So, what do you think, Frankie?” He breathed the question over Frank’s heated face, and pressed his slick fingers against the pink swell of Frank’s lower lip. “You ready to give it another shot?”

Frank’s throat moved in a swallow that Billy was close enough to hear. He looked up into Billy’s eyes.

“Yeah,” he said.

“It’s not gonna be my fingers,” Billy said, tracing them over his mouth. Frank nodded, but Billy really wasn’t asking.

He stood up, pushed his navy blue briefs back down his thighs, and gripped his dick in one hand. He curled the other around the back of Frank’s head, carding long fingers through his hair. Frank’s eyes drifted shut, just for the briefest moment, and he leaned his weight into Billy’s palm.

“Relax your jaw,” Billy murmured, tracing the line of a scar in the velvet feel of Frank’s buzzed scalp.

Frank cut a quick glance to Billy’s face. He opened his mouth and leaned forward.

Billy eased in, past those pink, spit-bright lips and into the wet heat of his mouth, to feel Frank’s tongue press almost gingerly against the underside of Billy’s cock. Like a champ, Frank pushed himself forward, swallowing another inch without Billy even needing to move.

“Easy,” Billy said, working his fingers through Frank’s short strands. “Nice and slow. We got all day.” An exhale tickled the skin of his dick. “You know, you’re lucky. My first time wasn’t half as nice to me.” His first had knocked his last baby tooth from Billy's mouth before pushing him to the ground, intent on finishing what he’d started. “The dicks I’ve taken in my day… Sore doesn’t begin to describe it. Yours, for example.”

Frank lathed his tongue down the length of Billy’s cock. He moved his head achingly slow, pulling off and then swallowing Billy back down inch by careful inch, as tentative as someone sucking down a stick of dynamite.

“Because you are thick, Frankie-boy,” Billy said, perfectly matter-of-fact. “I mean, I’m a world champion cock sucker, but you would always leave me sore. Especially when you were feelin’ wound up. Remember?” He raised his eyebrows. Frank swallowed again, throat bobbing. Billy’s hips twitched, knocking himself a half-inch further inside Frank’s hot, tight mouth. “You… you used to grab the back of my head. Like this.” He curled his fingers into a fist, pulling what little he could grip. “Except I… I had the decency to keep my hair long enough for you to really _yank_.”

Billy pulled on his hair, but Frank was too stubborn to be easily moved and he pushed himself down, swallowing almost all of Billy’s cock. Something between a growl and a groan rumbled in his chest, his breath hot against the few exposed inches of Billy’s skin.

“I used to love it,” he said, breathless as he began to rock his hips gently in tune with Frank’s rhythm. “I-I used to fuckin’… beat off to the thought of it. To you, fuckin’ my mouth like you were on honeymoon with it.” His breath rasped in his throat as Frank picked up the pace, tonguing clumsily at the slit of Billy’s head. Pleasure sparked down his spine, lighting up the cradle of his skull, pooling low in his chest, his stomach. Taking him over.

Frank had taken to his lesson well. He’d always been a quick study.

“More than that… More than that. More than that, when I swallowed your fuckin’ load, I wanted you to watch me.” His voice shook, like the wheels were about to fall off, like something that’d lost stability. “I wanted to you look down and see whose mouth you’d stuck your dick in.” His fingers tightened once more in Frank’s hair, pulling strands between his long fingers. “I don’t know why… why I cared. Stupid kid shit, I guess. It was only ever me you went for. You never on anyone else the way you were on me. Right, Frank?”

Frank pressed the broad side of his tongue against the sensitive tip of Billy’s cock. Billy’s knees nearly buckled. Frank turned his gaze up, catching his eyes like a snare.

Billy made a noise in the back of his throat he wasn’t proud of. He pressed into Frank’s mouth, stared down at Frank’s face, watched his shiny lips stretch around the heft of his dick and felt himself come undone. It was everything he wanted, coming at him in a rush to the head, like a pump of adrenaline. Like pulling the trigger and watching a body fall where a person once stood.

He came with a gasp that might’ve been a name. Frank choked, his face turning red, his head pushing back against Billy’s hand. Billy held him for another, petulant second, just so he could understand, just so he knew what it felt like to choke for another man’s pleasure.

He breathed through the aftershocks, fingers trembling. He straightened himself from where he’d curled over Frank, pushed his hair back from where it’d fallen over his face. He tucked himself back into his slacks, put himself back into order, all the while listening to Frank cough.

“Ah, cut the drama, will you?” Billy said, tucking his shirt back in. “It’s not like I forced a deep throat. You know the number of times I had someone come into my fucking sinuses? You don’t know pain ‘til you’re snortin’ some fuck’s load up your nose.”

To what might’ve been both of their surprises, Frank gave a shuddering laugh.

“Not… not me,” Frank said, leaning back on his haunches. “I never… never did that to you.”

That was true, although Billy didn’t feel like acknowledging it out loud. He knelt down instead, and pushed a gentle hand through Frank’s hair, curled it around one heated cheek.

“You did good today, Frankie,” he said. Frank turned into his hand, pressed his lips briefly against his palm. “Took it like a champ. I’m proud of you.”

Frank snorted. “Wow. Thanks.”

“It’s a big compliment, coming from me,” Billy said. He leaned forward, closed the distance between them. For a moment, Frank’s eyes widened, fixed on Billy’s lips, like he thought Billy might kiss him.

For a moment, Billy considered it.

Instead, he pressed his lips against Frank’s brow. Frank exhaled quietly.

“Does that mean you’re gonna untie me?” he asked.

“Sure,” he said, pulling back. “Collar stays, though.” He flicked it. Frank’s beautiful lips twisted, but he didn’t complain. More progress.

“I meant what I said.” Billy tugged on the ropes, pulling the knots loose. “You’ve got real hidden talent.”

“Yeah, great.” Frank huffed. “Can’t wait to develop it.”

He didn’t say anything else as Billy unwound the ropes at last. He was still hard, but he knew better than to complain about it. They stood up together, without each other’s help, although they both stayed in arms’ reach.

“You know…” Frank watched as Billy straightened himself. “I did watch you. Before. When you were, uh.”

So bashful, and for no reason. As if Billy hadn’t just shoved his dick practically down Frank’s throat. As if he hadn’t been talking about all the times he’d sucked Frank off minutes before.

Frank wasn’t really looking at him. His gaze darted from the ground, to the high windows, to Billy’s face, and quickly away. “I watched you,” he said. “For what it’s worth.”

It was so rare, the number of times Billy felt lost for a reply. It always seemed to happen around Frank. He looked away. He honestly didn’t know what it was worth.

“C’mon.” He hooked his finger through the metal loop of Frank’s collar. “Let’s go upstairs. I think you could use a few more lessons.” He smiled now, pushing the earlier moment aside with a flutter of his lashes. Something he now knew for a fact would get Frank going. “Maybe we could do something about your, ah. Situation. While we’re at it.” Frank’s gaze darkened.

It didn’t matter, Billy told himself, if Frank had watched him or not. It was just bullshit he’d said in the heat of the moment. None of it really mattered. The only thing in the world that mattered even a little was how Frank watched him now. How he followed him. How he listened, and obeyed.

That was all Billy knew.


End file.
